Start All Over
by Madame Reveuse
Summary: Originally, Philippa had wanted to leave the past behind. But then some shady djinndividuals attack her and she is saved by...Rudyard Teer! As she turns to uncle Nimrod for guidance, Philippa has to figure: it seems like djinn society has changed a lot since she last visited... Takes off after book 7. Pairings: I don't even know. All of them, I guess.
1. Prologue

**Surprise new fanfic! *bam* **

**This is mainly written because a) I've had pieces of plot in my mind for ages and now they come together and it's like an epiphany and b) because Guest53 wants me to. I often say that Iblis is my fanfic-writing muse, but honestly, 53, I think it's rather you. I write so much off your ideas and your encouragement these days. I have no idea who you are and what your story is, and yet you're so important to my writing. I will never meet you, or know your name, or hug you, but I will dedicate this fic to you. I hope you like it. *bows*  
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**This kinda should have more than two categories, as it's actually an Adventure/Romance/Humor/Suspense/HurtComfort/Friendship/Supernatural crackfic! As is every well-written work of fiction, I might add. (Sure hope that this is well-written though)**

**Warning for mild guy-on-guy in later chapters. Also some of my OCs (some people don't like those).**

**Now, before we head over to the first chapter, have this mysterious prologue! Haha, try and make sense of that, y'all!**

**Disclaimer:**** Neither do I own anything, nor do I mean to offend anyone. **

**Reviews and suchlike are always welcome and will definitely be answered. At least if they're not random trolling. That'll be ignored because I don't need that kind of negativity in my life or whatever. But if you have **_**constructive **_**criticism, feel free to share it with me – I love a good discussion. **

**Hmm…will that be all? If you love Iblis and you know it, clap your hands!? *clap clap* Ah well, whatever, on with the story.**

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><p>"So you won't cooperate?"<p>

"Sorry, boy. I'm afraid it isn't that easy."

Somewhere, in a remote corner of the world, in a spacious room with heavy stone walls and an almost unbreakable iron door, a boy and a woman stood facing each other. The room was large, but dark and damp; it looked somewhat like a dungeon. The woman was dark-haired, pale and very tall, her figure was that of a woman athlete. The boy, also dark-haired and somewhere within his teenage years, sported the expression of someone who had expected to come out on top of a situation, only to find he really wasn't. The woman was standing between him and the door, blocking his way out.

The boy said: "I went through all this trouble tracking you down…"

"And I couldn't care less if I tried" the woman interrupted him coolly. Did I mention the large, black-bladed longsword she was holding casually in one hand, pointed at his throat?

"Look, honey, I don't help djinn. Especially not little dipshits like you. And I've no intention to be in on that crazy stupid plan of yours. Did you honestly think your measly djinn powers would be enough to bind _me_? Thinking is not your thing, is it?"

"They told me you were bound to this place…"

"Bound, yes, but not powerless. This is my lair. You have walked in here like a stupid little fly into a spider's web and tried to _attack _me. And I'm going to squash you against the wall like the weak little fly you are."

"I will be stronger" he said. "As soon as I have the staff…"

"You will be nothing" she mocked, smiling cruelly. "Right now, I have half a mind to wipe the floor with you before I kill you, little bastard. Or maybe bind you to me and take you as a slave. I could use a djinn slave. Maybe a less annoying one, though."

He clenched his teeth, but said nothing.

"Now humor me" she said. "What was it you wanted to do again, when your batshit plan comes together?"

"I don't have to tell you that."

She prodded him once, very lightly, with the sword. "This is a demon sword, honey. Also this room is djinnproof, and the door is locked. I'm inclined to say you're wrong. You have to do _whatever_ I say."

He rolled his eyes and groaned, sounding more exasperated than afraid. "I'm going to look for my father" he answered her question.

Suddenly, the woman's arrogant smirk fell, and she let out a little gasp.

"Iblis" she whispered. Her sword-free hand went up to her chest and clutched a golden locket that was hanging there, in a weird contrast to the rest of her worn-out biker outfit.

"Yes, Iblis" he smirked triumphantly, mistaking the expression on her face for fear.

The woman strode over to the door and threw it open.

"Leave."

"Wh…what?"

"You heard me. Leave. There's the door." She gestured there with her sword.

"You're not killing me?"

"_Go_ _away_."

He made for the door to freedom as fast as he could without running, but in the door he turned around again.

"You know that that's pretty stupid, right?" he asked. "You know that I'll return to you as soon as I have the staff."

She smirked. "Let's see about that."

"You think I'm not gonna make it? Well, I will. I'll find the thing. I have friends now, powerful friends, that'll help me. And as soon as I have found my father…"

"Try China" she interrupted.

"What?"

"You're looking for your father? Try looking in China."

The boy rolled his eyes again. "That's a pretty large country, China. Any more specific?"

The woman bit her lip, looking insecure all of a sudden, probably thinking about how much she should tell him. Then her hand snuck up to the golden locket again.

"Xian" she said. "Try there. And hurry. Or else the only thing you might find is your father's cold corpse."

"Was that a threat?"

"No. That was a prediction. Just…just fucking hurry up, okay?"

As the boy's hurried footsteps died away in the distance, the woman lowered her sword, stowed it away in a sheath on her belt and said to herself: "Let's see if that decision won't come back around to bite me in the ass…"

Then she closed the dungeon door again, sat down with her back to it and buried her face in her hands. And nobody heard her whisper: "Oh Iblis…Rudyard…I pray to god he finds you…"


	2. Phantasmagoria

**First chapter of my master-fanfic, here we go! Please r&r, it would really make my day!  
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><p>Philippa Gaunt had left her past behind. She was living in the here and now, and she was happy.<p>

Once, a mere year ago, she and her brother had been djinn. For her, it felt like an eternity ago that she had possessed the power to fulfill wishes or turn people into animals. These powers had been a huge responsibility, and she didn't miss that one bit. It was pretty exhausting for a developing teen to have to repeatedly save the world, be threatened by villains, watch your family break apart, then get fixed, and as soon as everything looked up again, the next adventure was in store... Granted, she and her brother John hadn't had a completely awful time. Actually they had learned a lot, made friends, met interesting people, seen a lot of foreign places and occasionally had lots of fun. Sometimes, Philippa felt a bit bored with her life as it was now, and also much more mature than her "ordinary" friends, but all in all she had no regrets about sacrificing her djinn powers for the good of the world the year before, and she knew that neither had John.

She was living in the here and now. She was happy.

Philippa hummed a song to herself as she closed her diary. Writing a diary was a habit she had acquired when she had been trapped in Iravotum, and to the present day she loved continuing it. Sometimes she thought about sharing the stories in her diary with other people. She could pretend like it was something she had made up, that would be fun, wouldn't it...? People would think she had the most vivid imagination.

Alright, she had finished her homework, written her diary, it was three p.m. ...time to visit Isobel.

Philippa left her room and went over into John's. "Hey, John, I'm heading over to Isobel's, are you coming?"

"Naah, I'm meeting up with Vi later."

Over the last year, Philippa and John had grown apart a bit. They had never been the stereotypical do-everything-together sort of twins, but they had still been mostly together due to their adventures with their uncle Nimrod. Now that there were no adventures anymore, and visiting Uncle Nimrod had become a rare event, they had developed in different directions – as is often the case with people maturing. Also, John lately spent most of his time with his new girlfriend.

Violet was a nice girl who had started attending their school after the summer break. Her short hair was dyed purple, which went nicely with her name and had caught John's immediate attention as she first entered their classroom. As the teacher introduced her to the class, she had looked over to where John was staring at her and, Philippa reminisced, almost drooling on his shirt, and given him a winning smile. Three weeks later, they had started going out.

Philippa said goodbye to her brother and went out into the late fall afternoon. It was pretty cold, maybe it would snow soon. But Philippa wasn't as conscious of the cold as she had been when she had still had her djinn powers. That was another upside to the new situation.

She took the subway to where her friend Isobel lived. Philippa was glad that she was now able to just hang out with her school friends in her free time, completely without worries. She liked maintaining friendships, and had always felt a tiny sting of conscience when going on another adventure and neglecting school and her mundane friends. It was nice just meeting up with another girl, leafing through magazines, listening to music and chatting about school and the boys at school.

When she left, it was already dark and even colder. She huddled up in her coat and scarf and went looking for a taxi or the next subway station. The wind was cold, and New York wasn't that nice of a city at night. Philippa remembered that when two guys catcalled her and another one gave wolf-whistles as she passed. Philippa sighed. Some guys...

She walked further along the street, until she noticed she was being followed.

She turned her head a bit and saw four young men, the catcallers among them. They kept a leisurely but steady pace, absolutely sure that they would catch up with her in the end. Philippa walked faster. Maybe it was just a coincidence...maybe they weren't following her at all...

As she took a few random turns and they were still behind her, she dismissed the possibility of coincidence. Damn. She fumbled around in her handbag, wishing a can of pepper spray would magically appear there. Situations like that were the downsides of having no djinn powers.

She didn't have pepper spray, but she found a small can of deodorant. Well, spraying that into someone's eyes was bound to hurt too, wasn't it?

Suddenly she could see two more men coming out of an alley in front of her. Oh no. She had not just been followed, she had been _chased_. And unfortunately this was a quiet neighborhood, and there was nobody else on the street. Nobody she could call out for help.

Philippa gathered up her courage, gripped her little bottle of deodorant tight and whirled around. She had withstood catastrophes, cultists and insane Ifrit. She could handle a few misguided boys out on the prowl, djinn powers or no. Nonetheless she wished that John was there.

"Could you please leave me alone" she said in a steady voice that sounded braver than she felt.

She expected one of the men to smirk and say something like "I love women who got fire" or "Learn to take a compliment, sweetheart", but none of them smirked, and one hissed: "Die, abomination".

That's when Philippa knew she was in serious trouble.

She cast wild looks between the men, who now started circling her. One of them, the one who had hissed at her, suddenly had a knife in his hand, ready to lunge.

"PHANTASMAGORIA!" someone yelled.

Knife guy made a surprised sound as he fell down on the sidewalk, which was still slightly wet from this afternoon's rain. He lost consciousness as soon as he hit the asphalt, his eyes turning upwards and then closing. There was a faint, sulfuric smell in the air. _Djinn powers_, Philippa thought wildly. _Someone's using djinn powers. _Then PHANTASMAGORIA had been a focus word, but none she had ever heard before.

Philippa's other attackers were as surprised as she was. They looked around; apparently they had not expected resistance. "They said the girl had no powers" someone muttered.

"That wasn't her" a voice, the one that had yelled out before, said. "Over here, dingbats."

It was a voice Philippa knew, a voice from the past. One she had thought she never had to hear again.

Out of an alley stepped...Rudyard Teer?! He was carrying a flashlight.

"Why don't you leave the lady alone, huh?" he said. "This guy" he gave the fallen one a prod with his boot, "has learned already what happens to those who mess with me. Want another lesson, anyone? Volunteers?"

Suddenly, someone grabbed a fistful of Philippa's hair from behind and pulled her back. "Piss off, snake boy, or the girl gets it" she could hear someone growling near her ear.

"Maybe" Rudyard said, smirking, "Maybe you'd really be faster than me, and the girl _would_ get it. Tough. But then your trouble would only be starting." He flicked on the flashlight and pointed it into several of the surrounding alleyways, where everyone could now see shady figures peeling out of the darkness. "I'd also like to direct your attention to the rooftops" Rudyard said and pointed up. His flashlight made even more silhouettes up on the roofs come into view. Philippa tried to count them, but there were too many and the light went by too fast.

"We've got you surrounded" Rudyard said snidely. "Did you really think I would be stupid enough to come here by myself? You're outnumbered, see, so if I were you, I would let go of the lady and run for it. Run back to your bosses and tell them who they'll be going up against. Tell them we'll be watching. Got that?"

The ambushers looked at each other and sped away, leaving the fallen one behind. Leaving Philippa alone to deal with _Rudyard _saving her _life_.

"You...you saved me" she stuttered.

"Yeah. You alright, Miss Philippa?" he asked, as if it was nothing to him, as if he went around saving her every day. "Not gonna faint or something, are you?"

"I don't _faint_" Philippa said. "I've been through worse situations. A lot of those at the hands of you and your father... anyway, thanks for just now."

"No big deal" Rudyard said and turned to leave.

"Wait! You can't just go away now! I have about a million questions!"

Rudyard turned around again. "What?"

"_Why?_ Who were these people? And who are all these people with you? And weren't you supposed to be trapped in a jade armor?"

Another two guys stepped up besides Rudyard. Philippa recognized some of those who had been on the rooftops earlier. One of them (Philippa flinched horribly because she mistook him for Iblis, until she saw that he was younger and his hair was too dark) laid a hand on Rudyard's shoulder and addressed her with: "Those were actually just four questions. And we're afraid we can't answer any of them."

"Oh come on, now" Philippa said. "This is all too weird. I have a right to be in the know. Who are you, anyway, Iblis junior?"

Rudyard shook him off and said: "This is Odair, my older brother. The other guy is Jared, my other brother. Up on the roofs are Charlie, also my brother, and Johnathon, my...well, you can guess..."

"Oh, don't tell me: is he your brother?" Philippa guessed wryly. "Are all sons of Iblis on the street tonight? What are you _doing_ here?"

"Well, that's what we can't tell you, Miss Philippa. We were told that it's best for you to not know too much." Rudyard now turned to his brothers. "What are we doing with garbage butt here?" he asked, pointing at the man he had taken out with his djinn powers.

"Is he...?" Philippa asked.

"Sleeping" Rudyard answered curtly. "Do we just leave him?"

Odair Teer thoughtfully scratched his head. "No, that would be a waste. Mr. Uppity Marid said we need information..."

"But do you think he would condone our way of _getting_ information?" the one named Jared asked.

"Eh, who cares. We'll just run him by dad. I mean, do you think dad would care...?"

"Right now? Absolutely." That was Rudyard again.

"Anyway, we take him with. Who knows, maybe he _wants _to tell us stuff. There have been stranger things happening" Odair decided. He mumbled something – probably his focus word – and watched as the unconscious man – no, djinn, obviously – dissolved into smoke, which poured into a bottle in Jared's hand. "And you go home now, miss" he said to Philippa. "Go home and, please, try to forget this ever happened."

Philippa was in no mind to just blindly obey that, but the Teer brothers were all staring at her, and there were other eyes hidden in the shadows, and she was trembling from the cold and the shock that was only coming slowly, and this was all rather intimidating, so she hurried home...but with no intention of forgetting anything.

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><p><strong>Alright! So what's Philippa going to do now? What the hell were Rudyard and his brothers even doing? And who were the shady attacker people? And what bloody maniac names his son Odair? That and other interesting stuff in the chapters to follow!<br>**


	3. Uncle Nimrod's business

**Second chapter, in which not much happens. Philippa talks to people. Non-specific weird things happen at Nimrod's place. Other non-specific weird things happen with the spell check in Microsoft Word. Huh.**

**If you like the plot so far, please keep reading and maybe leave a review! That would delight me very much! Thank you in advance!**

**To Guest53, much thank for the reviews! 15 to 20 people, ha yeah, seriously, keep it in your pants, Iblis. Maybe a daughter of Iblis will turn up later, let's see, but I have... fixed plans with Violet, sorry.**

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><p>After immediately telling John what she had been through that night, Philippa hadn't found much sleep. The many questions she still had had kept her busy and awake. Now, in the morning, she intended to call the person who could most surely help her clear things up: Uncle Nimrod.<p>

In the last few months, the twins had rarely seen or even talked to their uncle. That was partially due to the fact that John and Philippa had wished to be further undisturbed by events in the djinn society – since they had no more djinn powers and just wanted to go on leading normal, mundane lives. Of course that didn't mean they wanted no more contact to their uncle. But Nimrod had been, according to their mother, very busy in the recent time. With what, they did not know. They only knew that Nimrod very rarely had time for a lengthy talk. It was all a bit strange, and Philippa knew that her mother was a bit worried, especially as she had received the news that Nimrod was slowly losing his powers.

Anyway, Philippa had been attacked – by djinn – and if her uncle didn't have an explanation, no one would.

Nimrod answered the phone after the third ring. "Who is that?" He sounded…cautious. Had something happened?

"Uncle Nimrod, it's Philippa."

"Is it? My dear niece, what a nice surprise! How are you?"

"Fine so far, uncle, I just…listen, I got attacked last night."

"Oh…yes…I've heard of that."

"Have you now? From whom?"

"Did they…did anyone harm you?" Nimrod asked, ignoring Philippa's question.

"No, I'm fine. But…uncle, they were djinn. I was attacked by djinn, despite…you know…not being of interest anymore. And I thought…who would want to kill a harmless girl for no reason? And then I thought, maybe the Ifrit are out for revenge again."

"The Ifrit? What makes you think that?"

Philippa could hear someone in the background ask: "Did someone say the Ifrit? What about the Ifrit?" to which Nimrod replied "Shush, you, I'm on the phone." It wasn't Mr. Groanin's voice. Who was there with Uncle Nimrod?

"Well, I got saved from the ambushers by Rudyard Teer. I know it sounds weird. But that's how it was. Somehow, Rudyard was able to break out of his jade prison. And where Rudyard is, Iblis usually isn't far."

"Yes, dear, I know about that too. Both Rudyard and Iblis are free, actually. But I can assure you that they had nothing to do with the people attacking you, and you have nothing to fear from them."

"Are you sure?" Philippa asked, straining her ears to hear what was going on in her uncle's house. Sure enough, the voice from before talked again: "Hey, what's going on, did he just – oh, oops, I knocked a thing over", accompanied by a crash. Also, even further in the background, the voice of a young girl was singing: _These boots are made for walking, and that's just what they'll do, one of these days these boots are gonna walk all over you…_

Then the singing stopped and someone shouted: "Are you totally out of it now? That's a priceless Ming vase! Or rather, it _was_ a priceless Ming vase, I say was!" Yep, that was definitely Groanin.

"Absolutely sure, dear" Nimrod said over the commotion. "Oh, please excuse me for a second – Groanin, calm down, it's just a vase – and a pretty hideous one at that – it belonged to my mother… I'm sorry, Phil, you were saying?"

"Uncle Nimrod, really, you seem to know a lot about this already. Nothing I told you was actually news to you, was it? I think you owe me an explanation. I mean, I almost died! One of them had a knife pointed at me!"

Uncle Nimrod sighed. "Yes, Phil, and I'm sorry for that. But, you see, it's safer for you to not know too much."

"Yeah, that's what Rudyard said too. And you know what? That's bullshit. I know nothing right now, _nothing_ and still they found me, they all found me. First the mystery djinn, then the sons of Iblis. All of them! You know, you might as well fill me in."

Uncle Nimrod sighed again. "You…well, if you put it that way…but the more you know of this, the more endangered you are. Also, we can't discuss this on the phone, and I can't come visit you either. Business has me stuck here, I'm afraid. You and John would have to come to London, but…you'd be in great danger there…"

"I'm also in danger here, right? These guys could come back. And just because I lost my powers doesn't mean I can't handle a little danger."

"Alright, fine, you convinced me" Nimrod answered after a brief pause. "I think you should come to London at your convenience…"

"That's easy. Winter break is starting next week. If mom and dad have nothing against it, we could be with you by Thursday."

"Thursday? That's alright…that's fine. But, when you get here…"

"Yes?"

"Oh nothing…nothing. Just…you will find that a few things have…changed. No need to worry, there is absolutely nothing that can harm you here…just, you know, some things are different now, and I must ask you to be prepared and not let anything new you may find worry…or scare you."

Philippa hung up the phone feeling even more puzzled than before.

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><p>"Hey John, listen."<p>

John looked up from the video game he was playing. "Huh? What's up, Phil?"

Philippa sat down on John's couch and started telling him everything she had just heard from Uncle Nimrod, ending with her intent to go to London in the break.

"Are you coming too?" she asked at last.

John huffed. "I don't know, Phil. All that stuff about Iblis and Rudyard being back sure sounds worrying, but there's not much we can do, right? Also, Uncle Nimrod sounded like he could handle it. I mean, I'd love to go and meet him and Groanin again, but…"

"Yes?"

"Vi's parents are taking her to the Hamptons over Christmas and she asked me if I wanted to come. And, you know, I kind of already promised her I would."

"Really? And mom said yes to that?"

"Uh-huh. She says we're old enough to not have to spend Christmas at home every year. So, I guess she's letting you go to London, too."

"If you say so. I'll ask her after dinner."

Philippa smiled, but it was a bit of a sad smile. It would feel weird going to London without her brother. They had always gone on their adventures together. But, well, this wasn't exactly an adventure, was it? She just wanted to meet her uncle so he could explain to her why she had been attacked. After that, she might well go home again. She would not get involved with anything dangerous. No, of course not. Also, now that she thought about it, she had missed Uncle Nimrod. Terribly. She wondered what he was up to.

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><p>"So, you want to visit Nimrod, dear? Any special reason to?"<p>

Of course Layla Gaunt was a bit wary whenever her little brother was mentioned. After all, he used to get her kids into horrible danger repeatedly, the last time even resulting in the loss of her precious babies' djinn powers. Now Layla had, ever since she had met her husband Edward, wished for a perfectly normal, happy family life, but that didn't mean that she was glad about her kids losing an integral part of themselves. Layla herself still had her powers, even though she had vowed not to use them anymore.

"I just noticed that we didn't visit him for a long time, mom" Philippa explained. "And I guess I feel a bit bad about that. Also, it's a bit of a pity…I mean, he'll be spending Christmas all alone, right? He's bound to be lonely."

John, who was sitting around nearby, raised his eyebrows, but he didn't tell on his sister. Meanwhile, Layla smiled, proud of her daughter's kind heart. "I guess you say a true thing, Phil. Nimrod is a creature of solitude. He's been alone for a long, long time…but I'm sure he'll be happy to have you with him." She looked down at the dishes she and Philippa had been washing and added a thoughtful "Someone should take care of him…"

"What do you mean, mom?"

Layla sighed. "I've been thinking…I always thought it was a pity that Nimrod never found someone. Someone who lasted, that is. There was your aunt Alexandra, and it looked great between them, but then the poor dear had that…tragic accident. Apart from her, Nimrod never showed any interest in finding a partner…and now he's getting older and his powers grow weaker and there's no one there. I really wish he would have, you know…at least tried to stay with Alexandra. She was a good friend of mine."

"When we met her, she couldn't even remember your name" John threw in. "She thought it was Imelda for some reason."

"John!" Philippa hissed.

"What?!"

"That was not a very…sensitive thing to say."

"Oh. Sorry."

"It's okay, John" their mother said and smiled, but Philippa would have bet that it was the same sad smile that she had smiled earlier, the one that knew, as time passed on, that friendships faded away.

She phoned her uncle and confirmed her coming on Thursday. The only thing left to do now was to book a flight to London, pack her things and wait.

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><p><strong>Well, looks like Philippa is going to London. Whatever will she find at Nimrod's house? And far more important and mysterious is the question: Will Nimrod <em>ever<em> find a person to stay with?! Bawww! We just don't know!  
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	4. Philippa in London

When Philippa stepped into Heathrow Airport, the first thing she saw was her uncle's butler, Groanin, waving at her with an unusually wide smile on his face. Apparently, Philippa thought as she ran over to hug him, he had missed her just as much as she had him.

"It's good to see you, my dear, I say it's very good to see you" Groanin said when all the hugging was done. "My, how you have grown! Unfortunately, Nimrod couldn't come to pick you up himself, as he has a meeting in town with some gentlemen. He tells me to apologize to you for not being there in person. You'll meet him later, I'm sure. But where is your brother? I say, where's John?"

"John couldn't come" Philippa said. "He's going to the Hamptons with his girlfriend."

"_Girlfriend_?" Groanin repeated, snorting. "Isn't he a bit too young to be running around having girlfriends?"

"It's only one girlfriend" Philippa smiled. "And he's almost sixteen, just as I am. I think that's old enough. Also, after all we've been through, it's a bit silly to say that we're 'too young' for…that."

"Oh dear, Philippa, of course you're right, and I'm wrong. I keep forgetting that you're not little kids anymore…" Groanin cleared his throat and tried to steer back. "So, John has a nice young lady now. Well, well. Surely there's also a nice young man in store for you, isn't there?"

Philippa blushed. "For me? Uh…I haven't actually…thought of that very much…" That was true. Philippa's whole range of romantic experience pretty much came down to one hasty peck on the cheek from Dybbuk from which nothing had evolved, and a silly little crush on a travel companion in their last adventure. Well, Dybbuk was evil now and Axel had died, and even if it weren't so, she wouldn't have gotten anywhere with either of them. Philippa refused to let this trouble her mind and didn't spare much thought on romance. It would all happen sometime, surely. And in the meantime, why get all worried about it?

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><p>As Philippa got out of the car at her uncle's place, Groanin unlocked the door for her and bid her go inside alone. "You know your way around, don't you? I'll be busy in the garden with some difficult roses."<p>

"But, Groanin, you working in the rose garden? You didn't use to do gardening before…right? I mean…as Uncle Nimrod's personal butler…"

Groanin gave an indignant huff. "Too right, miss! In the good old days, the garden used to manage itself, via Sir's djinn powers. But now that he has to save up, powers-wise, the garden has to be manhandled. Sir has not yet had leisure to hire a gardener, so I must do for now. And not only the garden! The cleaning, the cooking, the car maintenance…"

"And you do all that yourself?" Philippa asked, slightly horrified. That sounded like an impossible workload for a single man, even if that man had super-strength in one of his arms like Mr. Groanin.

"Oh no, it' not all that bad. These days I get some help from…but go in and see for yourself."

And with that, Groanin disappeared to the rose garden, leaving the front door unlocked and Philippa slightly puzzled. Who was it that Groanin was getting help from? She couldn't really imagine her uncle squatting down to help his butler primp the rose bushes. Grinning over the image, she went inside.

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><p>The entrance hall was empty so far, but there was a red coat hanging on a coat rack to show that Uncle Nimrod was probably back home now. The red coat was accompanied by some others that couldn't possibly be Nimrod's, for their size and non-read color.<p>

Anyway, her uncle was home, maybe she should go look for him.

Philippa had ambled through some rooms when she heard a sound from somewhere. As she tried following it, it turned from nondescript, low-level noise to music. Two voices, one male one female, were singing along to it.

_I got my ticket for the long way round, the one with the prettiest of views,_

_It's got mountains, it's got rivers, it's got sights to make you shiver,_

_But it sure would be prettier with you…_

_When I'm gone, when I'm go-one, you're gonna miss me when I'm gone…_

Philippa knew the song, and it didn't surprise her that the singing was accompanied by clapping and the rattling of cups. The voices sounded young and happy. What was going on?

She ended up following the music to the kitchen, where it was joined by the smell of baking cookies. Peeking in through the door, she saw the back of a boy who was right now taking a batch of cookies out of the oven, while a girl sat on the kitchen table, a plastic cup in her hands, empty of course.

Philippa knocked and let herself in. "Hey, um…excuse me…?"

The two of them turned around.

"Oh, hello, long time no see…" said Zadie Eloko.

"…Miss Philippa" added Rudyard Teer.

"You again!" Philippa said pointing at Rudyard. "Why are you always around these days? What are you doing here? This is my uncle's house! Also, Zadie? Weren't you in Brazil teaching indigenous children?"

"Yes, I was. But now I'm here. Call it obligation." Zadie had changed a lot since the last time Philippa had seen her. Her hair was cut in a short bob-style, her clothes were less childish, more mature and centered around the color purple. But the most significant change was the whole aura that surrounded her. The insecure girl with her crippling fear of failure was gone – Zadie looked self-assured and happy, a young woman who had made her way in the world, not a little girl anymore. But still she had her toothbrush in the corner of her mouth, where other people would have lollipops, or cigarettes. _The more things change, the more they stay the same_. Rudyard, meanwhile, was, as always, Rudyard – dark clothes, hair dyed red, milky pale face. He didn't resemble his father much, Philippa noted, even less now that there was no trace of evil sneer on his face. That maybe was the only change on Rudyard – attitude. Less loud, less smarmy, less stupid-gullible-daddy's-boy…but more silent, polite and, like Zadie, mature. Well, they had all grown up in the last few years.

"Zadie has kindly chosen to assist us on our latest quest" Nimrod, who was suddenly standing in the doorway, said. "Rudyard, meanwhile, is an envoy from the Ifrit. Anyway, welcome, Phil. I take it John couldn't come? What a pity. That would have been too nice, the three of us united again in the face of danger…oh well, we're going to have a good time nonetheless. Hmmm, is this cookies I smell?"

Philippa smiled. This was her uncle as she knew him. She felt reminded of their very first meeting many years back. Nimrod had a way of barging into meetings and burying everyone under a pile of excited chatter.

"Cookies indeed, sir" Zadie said and slid from the table. "Chocolate chip, sir. Rudyard helped me make them."

"Oh, how nice" Nimrod replied without missing a beat. "Why don't we take them upstairs and talk? We have so much catching up to do."

The kids followed Nimrod to one of the mansion's many sitting rooms. Halfway up the stairs, Zadie suddenly turned to Rudyard and, making excited hand gestures, said: "Can I just…say something crazy?"

Rudyard rolled his eyes skywards and looked exasperated for a second, but then he smirked and, after an enduring sigh, answered with: "I love crazy."

Zadie started to_ sing_:_ "All my life has been a series of doors in my face, and then suddenly I bump into you…"_

And, baffling Philippa to no end, Rudyard answered: "_I'm thinking the same thing! Cause like – I've been searching my whole life to find my own place – and maybe it's the party talking or the chocolate fondue-"_

"_But with youuuuu-"_

"_But with youuuuu I found my place-"_

"_-I see your face-"_

"_And it's nothing like I've ever known before - love is an open door…!"_

All the way to the room, they performed a Disney song together, complete with dance routine. Philippa exchanged a worried glance with her uncle, who just shrugged.

"Things in this house have become a lot more…musical since Zadie arrived" he told her. "Apparently she's given up on tap dancing and developed her voice instead."

"Hmm…well, she does sound nice…" Philippa admitted and left them to it. As the two had finally stopped singing at each other, Philippa asked: "So, um…are you two, um…a thing now?" There were few more unlikely pairings she could imagine, but…still. The bizarre occurrence she had witnessed just now warranted the question.

Zadie laughed. "A thing? No, we are not _a_ _thing_. We've been cooped up here for the better of two weeks and watched some Disney movies together, that's all. Did you know that Rudy here sings in a band?"

"Don't call me Rudy."

"No…I didn't know." There were actually very few things, come to think of it, that Philippa knew about Rudyard Teer. It was weird to think about. "And you've been helping Groanin with the housework?" she asked.

"Yeah" Zadie said. "Well, it's been mostly me helping. Rudyard was a horribly lazy bugger most of the time."

"It's an Ifrit thing. Runs in my family" Rudyard muttered.

"Nobody ever runs in your family, Rudy. That's the _problem_" Zadie bantered.

"Well, I guess you're right" Rudyard said.

"Huh?"

"My family has a lot of problems. I see them somewhat differently now, I think, ever since…"

"Here we are now" Nimrod interrupted them. "Please sit down, Philippa. There's a lot that you must hear. Zadie, could you and Rudyard maybe go back to the kitchen and bring tea up here? I feel it would be rude to bother Groanin now. He has so much to do these days. A solution must be found for that problem."

As the two of them had gone, Philippa sank into one of the fluffy couches and waited patiently for her uncle to explain.

"First off, Phil, I should probably explain Rudyard's presence."

"You said he was an envoy."

"Yes. In the face of the threat we're, well, facing, the Marid and the Ifrit are about to reach something that has not been seen between our tribes since probably the beginning of it all."

"Open war?"

"An _understanding_."

Philippa did _not_ quite understand. "What do you mean?" she asked.

"We are working towards a kind of truce, the Ifrit and I" Nimrod explained. "Of course they're rather hesitant towards me. That one of Iblis's own sons has been sent as envoy is already a large step. Iblis values, I might even say loves, his sons. It means that they are willing to trust… if not the Marid tribe, then at least me. Well, a lot of them are afraid now, and that means they might open up to us."

"Afraid?" Philippa asked. "What would the Ifrit be afraid of?"

"That is exactly the point" Nimrod replied. "Have I ever told you, however briefly, about the various djinn cults or sects there are?"

"I know about the eremites…the djinn that forsake wealth."

"The eremites are harmless. The sect that we will be talking about unfortunately is anything but. They have existed for a very long time, however all good djinn will avoid talking about them at all. When we have to, we simply call them The Cult. They refer to themselves as _djinnhadists_, which is not a name we like."

"What, like jihadists? I saw something about them on the TV."

"Of course you did…in _America_. Anyhow, these djinn are not involved with the Muslim faith at all, radical or no. They just pinched some vocabulary off them. Jihad means nothing but Holy War, and these warmongers are indeed of the opinion that they are fighting one."

"Really?"

"Yes. Another name they call themselves is Trueborn Sons of Taranushi which, in my opinion, is an even stranger name than djinnhadists. They aim to enforce a made-up law which is pretty much based on their belief of superiority."

"Excuse me…who do they think they're superior to?"

"Oh, a lot of people. Mundanes, eremites, half-tribes and burnt-outs, to name a few. They believe that there must be no inter-tribal breeding, especially not between good and evil, to keep bloodlines pure…which I personally think is nonsense. Djinn have never bothered about blood. Why start now? Also there must be no breeding between djinn and humans. The fruition of such an interaction is something they deem abominable and worthy of death. They deem a lot of things abominable. They were, as you might have guessed, the people who attacked you the other night."

"Yes, that fits…one of them called me _abomination_."

"I'm very sorry to say that, Phil, but burnt-out djinn are another group they want to eradicate. They think they have outlived their usefulness for society."

"What a disgusting way to think."

"Indeed it is."

"And the Ifrit agree on that?"

"They have their oddballs, half-tribes and burnouts just like we have. And it may surprise anyone who doesn't know them well, but they stick together. Yes, they do."

"Huh. What I still don't really get is…if this cult has been existing for such a long time, why are they suddenly a problem _now_? What changed?"

"Ah. Yes. That is a complicated matter. You know, a few years ago, someone made a prophecy. It was…difficult to understand, it had a lot to do with things that were long past, and nobody really got to the bottom of it. But the members of the sect have interpreted it as an omen that their time has come now. Or maybe they have read something in it that no one else has. Anyway, according to this prophecy, the cult, once it has risen, will set out to acquire some sort of artifact that is sacred to them. This thing is said to have the power to enslave all of djinnkind, good or otherwise."

"And of course no one wants them to have that artifact."

Nimrod waved it off. "The artifact is of secondary meaning right now. I'm rather more worried about all the people that will in the near future be targeted by these madmen. You and your family, sadly, among them."

"You mean they'll threaten us again? Oh no…"

"Yes. You and John are even doubly abominable. You have no djinn powers, and your father is a mundane. Also Layla has forsaken her djinn powers, which is, guess what…"

"Abominable?"

"Yes. Now I myself have been known to express the opinion that a djinn shouldn't throw away their natural gift when there's so much good work one could be doing with it. But I have not been known to kill people who do not share my opinion. I respect your mother's decision. They, I'm afraid, won't."

"They surely wouldn't risk getting on mom's bad side…I mean, remember what happened to the last people who did?"

"Yes, I remember. I agree that Layla will probably not be attacked directly as of now, and neither will your father as long as she's with him. But that only means that you and John are in even greater danger."

"Oh great" Philippa remarked. "And we can't even defend ourselves…"

"That's why I'm quite glad that you're here, Philippa, where we can protect you. It would be even better if John were here too, but there's no way we can change that now. I hope you don't mind staying close to me in the near future. Even if I embark on some missions out of town."

"What kind of missions?"

"Of a diplomatic nature, mostly. Little to no danger, these days."

"Then I don't mind. Where will we be going?"

"Well, first off, we're going to take a little journey to Las Vegas, to visit an old…friend of mine."

"You want to go to Vegas? Really? Isn't that a bit…daring? What with all the Ifrit there."

Nimrod clicked his tongue and shook his head a bit. "Listen, Phil. It is high time that all of us shed our image of the Ifrit tribe as the ultimate evil. They _are_ a bad lot, granted, but nowadays there's…hope. And bad or not, it may be of utmost importance to the world that we reach a peace with them."

"Of _utmost importance_ to the_ world_? Why's that?"

"It's all to do with the prophecy I mentioned earlier. I will explain that in due time. Anyway, you needn't worry. We'll be alright in Vegas. And if we get into a tight spot with the Ifrit…this will help us." He took a manila envelope from his desk and gave it to her. "These documents are from Faustina, and they will be our best friend in this wretched city. I need to show them to somebody for whom they might be…very interesting."

"Um, alright. May I have them? I mean, if I run into some Ifrit without you, I have no other way of defending myself."

"Sure, take them. But please don't read them. It's kind of important that Faustina's seal remains unbroken. That is, until this folder reaches the person it's intended for."

Philippa nodded and pocketed the documents.

* * *

><p><strong>Well, well, looks like we have an enemy! I hope nobody feels offended now. These guys aren't a metaphor for radical Islam. I rather thought of Nazis, really. Or the kkk. Right now, they appear pretty lame for villains, but they'll get more interesting as the story progresses. And, well, nothing, not even a villain that's a vengeful piece of toast, can be more lame than Rashleigh Khan.<br>**

**Whoever is this superimportant letter for? First one to guess it gets an internet cookie!**


	5. Suddenly Ifrit

**Do you see how Social Justice stuff I read about slowly sneaks into my fiction writing? And is that a good or bad thing?**

**Also, the cookie goes to Guest53! Duh who else :D**

**To Justreading, Rashleigh Khan was the villain in book 7! Forgetting him is absolutely normal, as he wasn't much of anything. He was the guy who wanted to steal all the chocolate or whatever. *Cough* all villains after book 5 were watered-down bullshit versions of Iblis *cough cough***

* * *

><p>"So, what exactly are we doing here, uncle?" Philippa asked. Contrary to her uncle's reassurance that she had nothing to fear, Las Vegas made her deeply uncomfortable. Especially now that the sun was going down. There were too many <em>people.<em> And the neon lights sure looked pretty and exciting, but still…she couldn't shake her discomfort. She didn't even know why she felt that way. Something about this place was just…weird.

"As I told you, we're paying someone a visit. A visit that is long overdue." Nimrod looked at his niece walking besides him. She was nervously clutching her bag which contained the documents they were to deliver. Their get-out-of-jail-free-card. "So you noticed it" he said quietly. "Yes, this place is not exactly Marid-friendly. Iblis had a lot done."

"What do you mean?"

"He's been living here for a very long time, Philippa. The city basically belongs to him. And he has added his personal touch to it. That's very much how he works. I wonder how much of his power went into this city, and how many traps exactly this place holds for the unwary. If you look out, and in the periphery, you can _just_ see it."

At first Philippa didn't know what he meant, but then, as she began to sneak more attentive glances at her surroundings as they walked, there were the stealthiest hints. Never out in the open, but…eyes in the shadows. People who stared for a second too long. A flashing green neon sign on a casino wall looked, for a second, like an attacking snake. When she turned around to look properly, it appeared to be an optical illusion that dissolved before her eyes. And Jesus, was that place there really called the "Kingcobra Club"? Was that where all the Ifrit hung out? But then Philippa corrected her thought as she realized that the whole of Las Vegas was where all the Ifrit hung out. They were surrounded by Ifrit power, and Ifrit _pride._ They controlled this place; this whole city was the jewel in Iblis's crown of depravity. There couldn't be a more hostile territory for two Marid, whatever uncle Nimrod said.

"I'm still not sure about this. What if Iblis finds us here?"

"Oh dear, Phil, I'm afraid you misunderstood me there. _I_ intend to find _Iblis_."

"So so, Marid" a voice suddenly said. "And what do you want from me?"

Philippa looked around and found they were surrounded by Ifrit who had come out of seemingly nowhere. They had to have been around the whole time. Most of them were men in rather uniform dark suits with slicked back hair that made them look like stereotypical Mafiosi – but there was also the woman.

The woman was wearing a marine blue sundress, and one of her delicate hands was on her chest holding a gray scarf in place. Her hair fell down almost to her waist in soft waves that varied in color somewhere between honey blond and a really light brown. She could have been pretty, but her face… her face was of a sickly pallor, and her cheeks looked hollow like those of a woman of normal build who had lost an alarming amount of weight to illness. It was the woman who, in the whole bunch, drew instant attention, and as she stepped into the circle, all Ifrit turned to her, mind and body, as did Nimrod.

"Iblis" he said without error in his voice. "Is this your current body?"

"It is" the woman said in the voice of Iblis Teer. "Not what I'm used to at all, but I take as I find."

"You look…"

"Effeminate?"

"Malnourished."

"This body…yes. It's not strong. That's probably due to its having been in a coma for the last three years. I'm working on the issue."

"The poor thing."

Iblis shrugged. "To business, Marid. You came here to search me out about something. I want to know what it is."

"Well, what do you think it is? _Them_."

"The djinnhadists? If it's information you're after, I can offer you a tantalizing amount of absolutely nothing on them. I just know what everyone knows. Come on, Marid. Just because something appears to be evil doesn't mean it's automatically my jurisdiction."

"Actually, it's not information I'm after, at least not just that. I'm rather more interested in recruiting your help."

Philippa stared at her uncle in something close to disbelief. Why would he ask for help from an Ifrit? Iblis looked equally dubious, until Nimrod went on: "I know the only reason you haven't interrupted me yet is suspension of disbelief – but I also bring you – this – from Faustina, peace be with her." He nudged Philippa and beckoned her to take the manila folder he had given her earlier from her bag. Trembling only very slightly, she stepped forward and gave the folder to Iblis, who took it, opened it and started to read. Philippa could see her – no, his – eyes widen as they darted across the lines she couldn't see. There was a slight, almost unnoticeable tremor in the Ifrit's hands as he looked up.

"You've got to be kidding me, Nimrod. This can't be real."

"I assure you it is. It bears the blue djinn's personal seal, and I would never dare forging that."

"But…all three evil tribes? And _peace talks_?"

"And entirely justified. If those cultists get a hold on their treasured Artifact, they will hold power over all djinnkind, good and evil. In the face of this danger, we must unite or we will fall."

"But what of our…"

"Any questions you might have, you can ask Faustina. Please come with us to Berlin. And also mind the other document. It contains a prophecy made by…"

Nimrod fell silent, but Iblis, who was already busy reading the prophecy, did not notice.

"Hmm, what the hell is this now…behold, oh djinn of the world…blood upon the earth, bla bla, the typical prophet nonsense…listen to my blithering or else you will be doomed…the half-snake joins the stoking of the unholy fires of hate…hm-hmm…a weapon most ancient and powerful…when good and evil join hands over the abyss. Marid, I see where this is going and I'm not holding your hand."

"I'm sure the 'joining hands' is metaphorical" Nimrod said diplomatically. "I reckon it refers to a good and an evil djinn collaborating."

"And what's all this about Taranushi?"

"I'm not sure yet. You know…prophecies. They're always so vague that you only really get them the moment they come true."

"Huh" Iblis said and made a skeptical face. "I don't really know if this is all convincing enough for me to voluntarily go to Berlin. I was threatened with ten years on Venus once. I don't really think I want that again."

"I knew you would be hard to convince" Nimrod said. "Let me try anyway. I know that saving the world doesn't mean a thing to you. But I just think something else might: with the artifact, the cult can and will enslave all djinn – Ifrit too. Your associates and followers, all those families depending on you for guidance, heck, your _kids_. You have a responsibility to the tribe you lead – you _are_ still the leader, are you?"

Iblis haughtily raised his head. "Of course I am. Who else?"

"Well, I heard that in your absence Jirjis ibn Rajmus took over."

"Hah. I will show Jirjis his place, just you watch. He's only in it for the power, he doesn't _care_."

"Oh? And I take it that you do?"

Iblis frowned in silence for a second. Then he sighed. "Yes. I suppose you've got me. I do care. But…still…what good would it do if I…"

"Listen. Faustina is not like Ayesha. She has an understanding demeanor, and her heart is not as hard. I'm pretty sure she will appreciate a favor done to her. And I'm just as sure it will be suitably rewarded. I might even put my voice out for it."

"What could you do?"

"Well, you my friend still have a rather impressive list of bad deeds done…but with my influence I could maybe work towards significantly lessening your punishment. Not making it disappear, of course, but…making it significantly _less_."

"You would do that?"

"For the good of the world? Absolutely. The end sometimes does justify the means…all means, Iblis."

Iblis came very close to Nimrod and gave him a long, hard to read look. Then he sighed and tucked a strand of hair back. "Alright, fine. I'll come with you to Berlin."

"Actually, we're going to have to take a slight detour over London, to collect Zadie and your son. But after that, it's directly to Berlin. I know you have the means of travelling by yourself, but I'd prefer it if you came with me. Just to make sure…you know."

Iblis shrugged. "Why not? But no flying carpets."

"How else are we supposed to travel?"

"You know, there is such a thing as airplanes…"

"I always thought you hated mundane means of travel."

"Not as much as I hate flying fucking carpets. They're clichéd, they look plain stupid, they're not really safe – people are prone to falling off – they're not even faster than an airplane, and besides, you always catch a cold when flying them. No stupid carpets or I'm not coming."

They agreed on meeting at the airport the day after, with no further mention of carpets.

* * *

><p>Philippa had been a bit dubious whether Iblis would turn up. It had weirded her out a little that uncle Nimrod was suddenly willing to trust the Ifrit so much. She half-expected to run into some evil trap here. But as they entered the airport, Iblis was waiting for them.<p>

"Top of the morning to you" Nimrod greeted.

"You are exactly four minutes and thirty-three seconds late, Marid" Iblis replied with a glance at his watch. Out in public, he was using the female voice that had belonged to the body's original owner.

Nimrod grimaced at Philippa as he said: "I'm sorry, I got caught up."

"Well, let's go" Iblis sighed and laid a hand on Nimrod's arm. Nimrod seemed a bit startled at the contact.

"I told you this body weakens quickly" Iblis explained. "It hasn't gotten an awful lot of exercise lately. That's the downsides to possessing the comatose. I might occasionally require your assistance."

"Possessing the comatose…? That sounds like a horrible thing to do" Philippa threw in.

"It's not as bad as stealing a body off someone who is currently using it, I think" uncle Nimrod opined.

"Still. It's all a bit…spooky, right?"

"It actually isn't half bad" Iblis explained. "This body I'm in right now originally belongs to a djinn woman from the Jann tribe. I think you even know her, Nimrod. Does Petra Reese ring a bell?"

"You mean Petra Reese-Sutherland? The djinn doctor?"

"Djinn _therapist_, to be precise."

"Yes, I remember her. A very friendly woman, but wasn't her work…a bit unconventional?"

"Her work was highly renowned amongst my tribe. That's all I have to say to that. Naturally, she managed to make some very influential djinn quite angry with what she was doing. And three years ago, someone put a binding on her that made her fall into an artificial coma. And you know what the absolute worst is? She's been awake _the whole time_. She's in here with me, mind perfectly functioning, but with no access to her djinn powers and no way to move a single muscle. Imagine that, for three years! I have to get her consent for everything I do in here. She can talk to me telepathically, but not to anyone else. I can use her voice and all her bodily functions, but she can't. Horrible, innit? So we made a deal."

"Oh, let me guess. You get to use her body until you find something else, and in exchange, you have to seek out the bastard who did this to her…"

"…and force him to release her, yes. Or find another way, if there is one. That is the nature of it all."

"So, she's in there and can hear us?" Philippa asked.

"Basically, yes."

"In that case, hi Petra, I'm Philippa. It's nice to meet you."

"She says hello back. She also wants you to call her Perry, since everyone does."

Their conversation was interrupted by a man who talked at Nimrod from the side, proffering a cup with a few coins in. "Spare some small change for a meal, Mister?"

Nimrod, being the genuinely nice person he was, smiled at the man, took out his wallet and dropped a big bundle of bank notes into the cup. "I'm afraid I only have pounds. Terribly sorry for the inconvenience, good sir."

"Not an inconvenience at all, most obliged, Mister, thank you very much" the beggar said and then dropped the bomb: "And what a nice little family you have!"

Philippa did not dare to look at Iblis.

"Yes, indeed" Nimrod said earnestly. "Have a good day, sir."

And with that he half-dragged a fuming Ifrit away, probably saving the beggar's day from becoming so much worse.

"People think I'm your _wife_…god, I want my old body back" Iblis hissed. "As if I would ever marry someone like you. I'm _way_ out of your league."

"It was just a humorous misunderstanding" Nimrod said diplomatically. "In hindsight we'll probably all laugh about it."

* * *

><p>The next Humorous Misunderstanding occurred in the bathroom.<p>

"Hey, lady, didn't you see the sign on the door?"

"Yes, this is a _men's_ room."

Iblis bridled, it was so easy to forget what he looked like at the time. But he wouldn't retreat. Iblis never retreated.

"But I am a man" he defended himself. "I'm just in the wrong body right now."

One of the jerks by the washbasin snorted. "Yeah right, fucking tranny."

His friends immediately chimed in.

"We don't need none of you trannies prancing around the place."

"They should really kill all trannies."

"Hey, did you hear me? You're not wanted here, tranny."

As they noticed the "tranny" was not going to answer, they fell silent. And then "she" looked up and fixed them with a positively snake-like stare and said, very quietly, "TETRAGRAMMATONITIS".

There was a flash of light, a sudden smell of sulphur, and then Iblis bent down and scooped three distressed cockroaches into his hands.

"Roaches" he said. "As befits you."

Still fuming, he went into the next cubicle, threw them in and flushed them down.

"It's horrible, the harassment that trans people are getting" he later said to Nimrod. "Remind me to do something for them as soon as we're finished here."

"_Do something_? Did I hear you right? _You_ want to do a_ good deed_?"

"I do that" Iblis explained. "When it's due. And it is."

"That sure is good to hear, dear friend" Nimrod said softly. "But I can't help but think that all of this could be avoided if you just used the ladies' room."

"You don't understand anything, Nimrod" Iblis replied. "I am not, and will never be a woman. Sharing a restroom with a lot of them would make me as uncomfortable as…well, as a man using the women's restroom. Duh."

For the sake of diplomacy, they dropped the argument. Until their plane landed in London, nothing of note happened.

* * *

><p><strong>Yes, Iblis is a pretty lady now…don't worry, he'll sort that out eventually, I just thought this was a nice way to introduce this OC of mine. Also people tend to forget when writing about Iblis that he doesn't have his own body anymore. Which is a pity because they're missing out on all the shenanigans one can write with this scenario. Which of course will be shamelessly exploited by me in future chapters. <strong>


	6. Faustina's New Peace

**Even more infodump. Sorry about it, but sometimes one must infodump.  
><strong>

**To Justreading: ****You mean Dybbuk? Hah, I agree. But Dybbuk at least had a proper backstory, which in a way makes him superior even to Iblis.**

**To 53: Well strictly speaking Iblis himself is just as male as ever. But whatevs, I'm glad you like this twist, I wasn't feeling too sure about it.**

* * *

><p>Gravel crunched under Nimrod's feet as he approached the front door of Bat Mansion. Faustina lived here now since the death of Ayesha, but Nimrod still felt uncomfortable here. He had never liked the place.<p>

"You know, I was here once when I was young" he said. "It was shortly after my mother became the blue djinn. I still remember how much she had changed when I visited her here."

"U-huh" Iblis replied, disinterest evident.

"It was the year when…you know…"

"Yes, don't talk of it."

"The year when _what _happened, uncle?" Philippa asked, just to ask something. A few steps behind her, Rudyard and Zadie were arguing over which band out of two ones that Philippa had never heard of was better. It was kind of boring to her, so she joined her uncle's conversation.

"Oh, Philippa, well. That year was quite a turbulent one, it's a long story. Iblis, of course, was there too and knows it, but he prefers not to talk about it, and neither should we."

"Why not?" Philippa asked, finding her uncle's new secretive behavior kind of weird.

"Oh look, we're already here" Iblis interrupted. "Now would one of you Marid ring the doorbell? I'll just be in the back pretending that I don't exist."

Nimrod rang the doorbell, and sure enough the door was opened by Jonah Damascus, Faustina's croucher demon. The demonic servant led them into a spacious study with huge windows that let lots of sunlight in. Behind a mahogany desk sat Faustina and welcomed them with a warm smile. She was wearing a sky-blue sundress and looked absolutely ravishing. Philippa knew that Faustina, in spirit, was about twice her age, but her body looked like that of a fifteen-year-old girl due to all the difficulties she had had with it. This meant that Faustina appeared girly and grown-up at the same time. Her face was fresh and youthful, but experience and maturity, Philippa was almost inclined to say wisdom, showed in her bright gray eyes.

For a second, Philippa fervently wished she could look as pretty as Faustina.

"Welcome, Nimrod. And Philippa" Faustina greeted them, getting up from her seat to shake everyone's hands. "Oh, and Zadie Eloko. I think we met before, at Nightshakes?"

Zadie looked like she didn't know what to do for a second, then she curtsied. "Ma'am" she said. "I was indeed at Nightshakes, and I apologize for my immature ways back then. I was hypnotized."

"I know" Faustina smiled. "And there's no need for that kind of behavior. You don't need to bow before me. Such gestures are not only logically meaningless, they also weird me out. Oh, and call me Faustina, or Tina, not Ma'am." She glanced over to where the Ifrit stood in the back, pretending to not be there.

"And you must be Rudyard Teer" she assumed. "But tell me, Nimrod, who's your lady friend?"

Iblis' disgruntled expression was _priceless_. Nimrod gallantly swept in and explained: "This is not my _lady_ _friend_, but Iblis. He had a few calamities with his original body."

"Tigers ate it" Iblis threw in.

"That sounds troublesome" Faustina commented politely. "Now, listen up everyone. You all know why you're here…"

"Not really" Philippa piped up.

"What?" Faustina wondered.

"I know that this is somehow about this cult that has been rising, and that there is a prophecy and the Marid must work with the Ifrit now for some reason. But it would be nice if you could explain…just how all these things are connected."

"Well" Faustina began. "You were right with the prophecy. It pretty much foretells that the djinn sect which calls itself the Trueborn Sons of Taranushi will arise, that is gain more power and more followers. They will look for some kind of item that is holy to them, and unfortunately that item, whatever it is, holds so much power that they can enslave every djinn in this world with it. I'm afraid that at least half of that has come true already: the cult is back, and they're attacking people, and I assume that they're looking for their artifact as we speak. Not much is known about how this cult came to be, only that, a long time ago, a small group of djinn with radical views separated from one of the tribes. That was right after the Baghdad Rules were established and the djinn refrained from using their powers against each other. In those days, good and evil djinn established some kind of silent agreement not to wreck the world in war. But this group of djinn didn't like that. And they still don't. They are of the opinion that fighting and destroying each other is the natural order of the djinn tribes. So Marid must always strive to kill Ifrit, and vice versa. The _pax nova _must be a considerable thorn in their side."

"Pax nova?" Philippa asked.

"That is Latin" her uncle explained. "It means new peace."

"Yes, the New Peace" Faustina went on. "You must know, Phil, that the prophecy also states that the uprising of the cult and therefore our doom can only be stopped by, and that's a direct quote, _good and evil joining hands over the abyss._ We're not really sure what that means yet. It could mean two djinn, two djinn tribes, or all the tribes, and the abyss could be a metaphor or a literal abyss somewhere. But anyway, prophecy or no, I think it's high time the six tribes got their heads out of their backsides and sat down together to talk. Under Ayesha, this wouldn't have been possible, but I'm the blue djinn now, and I see that the old system has more flaws than benefits. I'll enforce some changes. Therefore, someone must call all the tribes together…and that's why you're here."

"So we'll be, like, your emissaries?" Rudyard asked, speaking to Faustina for the first time. Oddly, he looked neither spiteful nor unhappy with the mission, but almost happy about it.

"Something like that, yes."

Rudyard smiled. "Cool."

"I thought it was about fighting that cult" Philippa said.

"We'll have to, eventually" Faustina answered. "But right now, we don't even know where they're at or who their leader is. There's not much we can do right now, so I'm putting diplomacy first. When they attack, and believe me they will, it's important that we stand united. Incidentally" and here she turned to the Ifrit, "I have just received a very incensed letter from one Jirjis ibn Rajmus." She took the letter from her desk and waved it around.

Iblis raised an eyebrow. "Jirjis? What did he want?"

"Well, first of all he claims that you are dead and that he is now leader of the Ifrit."

Iblis shrugged. "I'm pretty sure that I'm alive, which reduces his claim to a lot of hot air. Even if I _was_ dead, it's stupid. Jirjis is like my cousin once removed, and I have sons. There's such a thing as succession, you know."

"I know. He also claims that we should hold with 'traditional values' and that the New Peace was, and I quote, 'absolute bullshit'. Additionally he wants me to prostitute myself for him, preferably before drowning."

"What? Let me see that." Iblis took the letter and scanned it. "Ah. _Suck my dick and then go die in a well, you little bitch_. That's Jirjis for you." He sighed. "Our two families have a problem."

There was an audible intake of air by the assembled Marid. "Way to go with the subtlety, Iblis" Nimrod said under his breath.

"Well, you could phrase it like that" Faustina Sachertorte said sharply. "One could also say that our problem is called _you._ But we're not here to discuss that."

"We're not?"

"No. I'll never like you, Iblis Teer, but right now I need you. As it is, the Ifrit need a leader, and I'd rather put up with you than Jirjis. Your punishment can wait. At least if you choose to aid me with the New Peace, and not stand in the way of me."

"Sure thing" Iblis said hurriedly. "New Peace. Awesome. I'm game."

"Very well. Then next up we should discuss your mission! Or, if you want it, your new adventure!" Faustina beamed and threw her hair back. Philippa too had to smile.

"Zadie, your aunt is the Jann leader" Faustina continued. "So I take it that the Jann agree to join the peace talks, or else you wouldn't be here."

"We support you, Ma'am. Um, I mean, Faustina" Zadie said.

"Nice. So, one tribe won over, five to go, huh?"

"Of course you also have the Marid's support!" Nimrod exclaimed.

"Of course, Nimrod. I didn't doubt that for a second. So you, along with our new friends the Teers, will go and talk to the leaders of the remaining tribes. That includes the Ghul and the Shaitan, but I've heard it said that who rules over the Ifrit pretty much rules over them too." She looked at Iblis for confirmation of that fact.

Iblis shrugged again. "Well, I don't mean to brag, but…let's say they'll listen to me."

"Good. Phil, I reckon you'll accompany Nimrod?"

"But, Faustina" Philippa said timidly. "I don't know if you've heard, but I kind of lost my powers…John too. I don't think I can be of much help, especially when there's danger…"

"Oh, Phil! Don't worry! Of course you can help. In fact, your predicament makes you the ideal emissary. No one will suspect a trick from you, see, which will make people trust you more."

"If…you think so" Philippa said hesitantly. Had Faustina calculated all of that? It did sound _logical._

"Wait wait wait" Nimrod suddenly said. "Don't you think that it would be hazardous including Philippa in such a mission? I am still her uncle and, in the absence of her parents, her guardian, and I say…"

"Please, uncle, I want to come with" Philippa said. "I admit I was scared at first, but after I heard all of this…I want to help. We can do something really great here. I don't want to be left out."

"Still, I won't let my niece get involved with all that danger" Nimrod said, still talking to Faustina. "She's not even grown up yet."

"Hey, don't talk over me like I wasn't here! You took John and me to more dangerous adventures when we were _twelve_!"

"Yes, but you had powers back then…"

"We barely knew how to use them! Everyone left us in the dark about so many important things!" Now Philippa was getting slightly angry. She had given up her powers to save the world, and she got…_that_ in return? Being treated like a child? "I lost my powers, right, but I'm not useless now! I can still do good! And if you think I'm useless now, you think just like…like _them_!"

"I too have a son who lost his powers" Iblis threw in, examining his nails with a bored expression. "His name is Nicholas, and we always include him in our evil stuff, because being left out feels just _cruel._"

"You should allow Phil to come with" Faustina advised. "I mean, she'll be protected by all of you. And that's some of the most powerful djinn of all the tribes…right?"

Nimrod looked around between them. "I…I'm not…I think…well, fine" he huffed. "I'll tell Groanin." And with that he turned around and marched out of the room, without even waiting for a dismissal from Faustina.

"Wo-ow" Iblis said. "What's with him? Has he grown even _more_ uptight than when I last saw him?"

"He's been kind of different lately" Philippa said worriedly. "Secretive. As I said, he never filled me in on everything. He's also been…well, distant, somehow. And not just now, but ever since last year."

"Ah, I see. That's the guilt of the survivor" Iblis declared airily.

"Huh?"

"That absolute moron" Iblis said, "has never had to make difficult decisions before. He never had to weigh the needs of the many against the needs of the few. He's unused to dilemma solving, a dilemma being defined as the sort of problem where there are two outcomes, none of which will be pleasing to all parties. Another useful term here is 'damned if I do, damned if I don't'. In short, Nimrod feels bad about urging you and your brother to sacrifice your powers in that…freak chocolate-related volcano-eruption incident. He tried to get me up to date on what happened while I was confined in…in the…while I was out of the picture, but frankly, I find that last thing very confusing. I almost wish I had been there."

"Yes, it was a bit of a confusing adventure" Philippa agreed, thinking back on it. "So you think uncle Nimrod feels guilty because he still has powers while John and I haven't?"

"It fits his general character, yes."

"But we told him we are happier for it…and that's true!"

"Still. He made you do something, and it resulted in you losing something. And not just some something, but an important part of yourselves. Maybe there might have been another solution to the problem, one that didn't require such a sacrifice? Who knows? Not me. And not Nimrod. And it's just like him to beat himself up over something like that."

"He's probably just worried that he can't protect me as well as he used to."

"What do you mean?" Faustina and Iblis asked, comically at the same time.

"Well, the thing is, he's slowly losing his own powers. Just like Mr. Rakshasas did. He has to be careful with them, or else he'll run all out."

"That's unfortunate…" Faustina said, only to be cut off by Iblis.

"What? Nimrod? Losing his powers? _Never_!"

"Yes, it's true. He said so himself."

Iblis looked at his nails once more. This time his face looked almost worried.

"I don't like that" he muttered. "I don't like that at all." He glanced at the door through which Nimrod had disappeared. "Are we done here, boss lady?"

"Yes, we're done" Faustina said. "You may now leave."

Philippa walked to the door with the rest of the group, when Faustina called out: "Phil, could you stay behind for a minute?"

"Yes?"

When they were alone, Faustina took a deep breath and asked: "So…how've you been? And your brother? And why wasn't John here?"

"Oh. We've both been fine. John has gone on holiday to the Hamptons with…um, he has a girlfriend now."

"Girlfriend" Faustina echoed. Her smile flickered for a second. "I'm happy for him. Tell him I said hello, okay? And I wish him the best of luck."

_Oh_. _Okay_. Philippa knew that her brother had once been totally head-over-heels with Faustina. But then they had met again and she had appeared so changed…apparently she wasn't as changed as they had thought she was…

"I'll tell him, I promise."

"Good luck to you too, of course. With your mission." Faustina sighed. "Bye, Phil."

"Bye, Tina."


	7. Nightmares and Trust Issues

**Next stop: St. Petersburg! Also in today's issue: homosexual Nimrod, Iblis going through some drama, random encounters.  
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**To Guest53: Well, as Steve Rogers would say: On va voir! **

* * *

><p>Nimrod woke up in a state of disorientation. This was often the case recently.<p>

Waking up in disorientation had never been an issue before, but it seemed to become a regular thing these days. There had been a lot of travelling lately, and therefore a lot of hotel rooms. A different bedroom every week. He was getting too old for this.

After the meeting with Faustina, they had boarded a plane to Jamaica, to bring the message of the New Peace to the Jann leader, Zadie's aunt. After that, they had travelled to Nepal to seek out the Jinn leader, a reclusive fellow, very hard to find indeed. A week later, Iblis had bested the suburban ghettos of Hong Cong to find the drug den where the Shaitan leader hung out. That left the leader of the Ghul, a lady who resided in St Petersburg, running a night club empire that rivaled the Russian Mafia. Iblis had claimed to be old friends with her. Nimrod had claimed that Iblis didn't have friends. Iblis had fallen silent.

Hotels in Russia were of dubious quality, and they often had to share rooms…and, occasionally, beds. Philippa sharing with Zadie while Rudyard slept on the couch was no big deal. When the issue first arose, everyone had kind of expected them to split into parties of good and evil, but Rudyard had rather snappily said: "If it's all the same to you, dad, I'd rather stay with Miss Philippa and Miss Zadie." It had been all the same to Iblis, but Nimrod and his niece had exchanged a covert glance. Something was rotten between their two Ifrit; at least Rudyard seemed far less enthusiastic than before to follow his father everywhere.

As a result of this arrangement, Nimrod either awoke with Groanin snoring into his ear, or with a woman in his arms, and these occurrences startled him the most, because it had been a long time since there last was any woman to be found in his bed – and _then_ he remembered who exactly this particular woman was. Or rather, who she _also_ was.

Not only did Iblis have the slightly annoying habit to toss, he also latched on to anything and everything while he slept, leeching for body warmth. They would fall asleep in the evening, each of them on his respective side of the bed with their backs on each other, firmly wrapped in their respective blankets. But Nimrod would inevitably wake up each morning with Iblis glued to his chest or back, which somehow embarrassed him _more_ every time it happened. Also the bloody Ifrit would hog _all_ the blankets.

Now, as he had remembered where he was and why he was here and why the scantily clad female affectionately nuzzling his shoulder was here, he groaned quietly and tried to pry Iblis off him. The evil djinn said "Nngh" and budged slightly, alas only _slightly_. Nimrod squirmed uncomfortably as he felt way too female hair tickling him, and way too female body parts pressed against him. It had been like that with his wife, back in the days, he remembered. She had been beautiful and charming and intelligent and kind, but…_way too female._ The thought of a female body in an intimate connection with him felt…wrong. It always had. When presented with female advances, he didn't know what to do. Softness and roundness in wrong places, and expectations of things he didn't feel. That was one of the lesser known reasons why the thing with Alexandra hadn't worked out.

He abandoned these thoughts and looked at the alarm clock on the nightstand. It said 3:13, the small hours, the gray hours of the night, no time to get up. But he doubted he could sleep again.

In the dim light he looked at his bedmate's face. His two bedmates, actually. It was hard to remember that the original owner of this body, a real woman, was still in there with Iblis, when she didn't have a way to give them a sign of her presence. Nonetheless, Nimrod believed what Iblis had told him about his deal with her. Why should he make up such a lie? They both knew Perry Reese-Sutherland, she had been Nimrod's friend before her disappearance three years ago. Nimrod wondered if she was awake or asleep in there. He knew for a fact that Iblis, who had complete control over this body, was sleeping, and Perry couldn't do anything until he woke up. Then Nimrod had an idea, one of these slightly silly strokes of perceived genius the brain sometimes cooks up while half asleep at night.

Maybe he could leave his body, right, and float right over? Then he could check on Perry, and maybe have a chat with her, and if he was extremely lucky, Iblis wouldn't even notice.

He concentrated his will and made his spirit drift out of his body, and for a moment he saw all of them from above. Then he floated downwards and very carefully slipped into Perry's body.

What he found inside were indeed two other souls. There was Iblis, his mind all fogged by sleep. He was dreaming some weird dream that involved green cats that could float. They grinned and sang nonsensical songs. But then there was another spirit, and yes, she was awake. Nimrod greeted her, trying to hush the voice of his thoughts, as to not disturb Iblis in his weird feline dreams.

"Hello Perry" he whispered.

"Hello Nimrod" she whispered back. "It's good to see you. I'm sorry for invading your private space like that. It's him who controls all muscle movement up in here, and he's a cuddler, not me. Is that why you're visiting?"

"No, I wanted to talk to you. You know, directly. I don't want to rely on him for translations too much."

"So far he hasn't made any trouble. Did what I wanted him to do."

"Don't trust him too much" Nimrod advised. "Or at all. You know who he is."

He could feel a slight hint of exasperated eyeroll to Perry's thoughts as she answered: "Yes, I know who he is. I often dealt with him and the likes of him back in the days. And I decide how much I trust him. I mean, do I have a choice? He was literally the first djinn who found me ever since I've gone to the coma ward. Iblis has no scruples stealing the body of just everyone. Why me? Why like this? Because he's not without pity, that's why."

"I don't know" Nimrod said skeptically. "He's not the altruistic type."

"Also he owed me. I did him an unexpected favor ten years ago. He believes in paying his debts. Be it revenge or anything else."

"Perry, what exactly was your business with the Ifrit three years ago? What did you do that brought you into this situation?"

Perry hesitated. Then she said: "What I did was…I tried…"

She suddenly paused. Nimrod could feel her insecurity. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"Something…"

Then a wave of dread washed over both of them. It was a feeling of fear, of horror, of being cornered, and neither Nimrod nor Perry had any reason to feel that way, but yet they did. It came from someone else, from…Iblis. But Iblis was sleeping…

"That's a nightmare" Perry whispered. "Not too uncommon since he's here. You leave now, I'll try and wake him up…"

Nimrod had never shared a body with someone having a nightmare before. The phenomenon intrigued him as much as it had startled him at first, and he didn't leave. Instead, he turned his thoughts from Perry to Iblis, wanting to see what he was seeing.

What Iblis saw was…nothing. Blackness. Close, _too close, too claustrophobic, entrapped and paralyzed, powerless. Black panic on the edges of his mind, threatening to spill over and take his sanity. Okay, alright. No panicking. Deep breaths, or maybe not, air was rare in here. He tried to move, tried to search for a hole, a breaking point, but he couldn't. His prison was all around him, too tight, too close, and he couldn't flex a muscle. Next he tried concentrating his djinn powers, but they were entrapped with him, unable to break the double binding of jade and gold. All fight left him. There was no hope._

Nimrod understood now that he was witnessing a moment of the past, the experience of Iblis being imprisoned in a jade suit of armor. It was dreadful to behold, but he stuck around. Maybe the dream would end with Iblis being freed and _how_? Who or what had gotten him out?

_There was no hope. If someone from the outside didn't free him, he would die in here, and no one would come. They wouldn't find him. They wouldn't even bother. What for? After all he had done._

_He thought of Dybbuk, of Rudyard. Poor Dybbuk. Poor confused little thing, now powerless. His fault. Had he cared a little more…but he hadn't. His youngest son. The worst of crimes. And Rudyard, always besides him, just as trapped as he was. Rudyard, his golden boy, second-youngest but with the most potential out of all of them. He had wanted to train Rudyard specially, to build him up to be the Ifrit leader after him, Rudyard who was such a bright boy, who would, when he grew up, be stronger…stronger…no. Rudyard would never grow up. The leadership would fall to someone else, someone unfit to rule, and there would be chaos. His fault, his fault, his fault._

_A wet, sticky substance on his face. Tears. He hadn't cried in a very long time. He felt his body trembling faintly, and a bitter laugh escaped him, because that was the only movement the jade suit permitted, vague shivers and tears. _

_There was no hope. The fatality of his situation eclipsed him as he laughed and cried and it wracked his body, except not because there was no room for wracking. It was all too close, and panic overtook his mind and plunged him into hysteria, and he forgot where he was or who or why. He was a ball of dread and fear, and the fear reached its pinnacle and stayed there, it didn't end, it didn't end, there was no relief, no hope, no hope, ever. No room to move, no room to…breathe…oh god oh god, someone, please, let it end let it end let it end…_

Nimrod couldn't bear it anymore. He fled at the speed of light, into his own warm, comfy body. He found that there were no more clingy arms around him; Iblis was back on the other bedside, lying there stiff as a board, his arms crossed over his chest. Exactly the position the great Khan had locked him in.

Nimrod couldn't cope with this. He rolled over, closed his eyes and started taking deep, soft breaths, pretending to be fast asleep. He knew how proud Iblis was. He didn't want to put them both through admitting what he had just seen.

He heard how the body next to him jerked awake, then ragged breathing, some muttered expletives. He squeezed his eyes even more tightly shut. _Leave it to Perry to comfort him. She's the therapist after all._

And Nimrod understood the reason Iblis might have had for his deal with Perry. Perhaps he really pitied her, out of an understanding of what it was like to be trapped…_for three years! Horrible, isn't it?_ Maybe that horror had been sincere.

* * *

><p>"I always thought Mimi de Ghulle was the Ghul leader" Philippa said, yawning. They were all crammed around a table in a crowded little diner that offered, to Nimrod's delighted optimism, English breakfast.<p>

"She wishes" Iblis muttered from where he sat with his head on the table.

"What's with you?" Nimrod asked. "Was it…not…a good night?"

"Not worse than average. I just regard seven in the morning as a misfortune that happens to other people. Anyway…" he took his head from the table, "Among the Ghul have always been two leading families: the de Ghulles and the Si'lats. They hate each other. The current leader is a Si'lat woman, and when Mimi saw that she had no chance to overthrow her, she put her mind to other, even greedier aims. The position of Blue Djinn. She didn't get that either, of course. Dull woman. I'm glad I get to treat with Sasha and not her."

"Sasha?"

"Natasha Si'lat. Lets me call her Sasha."

A waitress came to take their orders. Nimrod ordered the English breakfast, Zadie the veggie alternative, Philippa some pancakes. Rudyard just yawned and, without opening his eyes, pointed at Philippa and said "What she ordered."

"Can you get me a Vodka Rocks, Anna?" Iblis said brightly, reading the waitresses nametag.

"It's breakfast, dad" Rudyard whispered.

"Oh dear me, how could I forget. And a piece of toast, Anna."

Nimrod clicked his tongue in disapproval. "I hope Perry has serious words with you in there, Iblis. This body has been in a coma for three years, being nourished intravenously. The last thing it needs right now is your poor excuse for a lifestyle."

"_Pas devant la domestique_" Iblis replied nodding in the direction of Anna.

"What's that mean?" Rudyard asked.

"It means for the stupid Marid to keep it _down_. People can hear."

"Well if he's right he's right." Rudyard shrugged. Iblis looked at him as if he had just grown a second head. So did everyone else. Disobedience from Rudyard was a new thing.

Anna came with everyone's food.

"I just want you to take care" Nimrod said adamantly. He skewered a piece of bacon with his fork. "We're sharing."

The baffled stares of everyone else moved from Rudyard to Nimrod as he put the fork up to his greatest enemy's mouth and ordered: "Open up."

Iblis glared murderously at him. Then he bit so hard into the fork that his teeth would probably leave indents.

"Oh look, how romantic" the female half of the mundane couple on the table next to them twittered. "You never feed me like that, Josh!"

Philippa and Zadie exchanged looks. Rudyard ducked his head. Groanin was tugging at Nimrod's sleeve, urging him in a hushed voice to maybe let it be. Something horrible was about to happen.

But it didn't.

The door opened and a _huge_ man entered, all broad shoulders and massive, meaty arms and a face that looked like it had been hewn from stone by an extremely grumpy stonemason. All of this was crowned by an unfitting crop of red hair. Nimrod, who was now distracted by Groanin, didn't notice the newcomer, but Iblis did. Not even pausing to take the fork out of his mouth, he raptly followed the man's every movement with his eyes as he ordered a coffee-to-go, slapped some money on the counter and made for the door again.

_Did you see that guy?_ he quietly asked Perry in the recess of his mind.

_What guy? Was he pretty?_ she thought back.

_Not in the least. That was Jirjis ibn Rajmus._

_Who?_

_Never heard of Jirjis? He's kind of a big deal in my tribe. Blockhead. Faustina said he wants the leadership. Wonder what he's doing here._

_Why don't we go and find out? Everyone is busy arguing right now. We can disappear real quick._

They stood up and crossed the room, pushing past a lot of people until they reached the door. Outside, they could just see Jirjis walking up to a black Mercedes.

_Fuck. No way to follow him like that_, Iblis thought.

_We could steal a car_, Perry suggested.

_Sometimes I can't believe you're a Jann_, Iblis thought at her.

She mentally giggled. _Well, I'm in the company of the world's most evil djinn. I could do a lot of bad things and blame them on you._

_That's shady._

Just then, Jirjis looked over his shoulder and saw them – or rather, saw Perry – standing there.

"You little bitch!" he called out. "How the hell are you even here?"

_What the heck…? I thought you said you didn't know him?_

_Shit, run! _Perry ordered. _That's the guy who put the binding on me! He's really really angry at me! I didn't know what his name was, just that he hates me!_

Iblis didn't need further explanations. He spun them around and ran back into the diner, slamming the door behind them.

_Does he come after us? What now?_ he asked.

_Now we go back and explain things to Nimrod_, Perry said calmly.

But as they reached the table, they were met with another nasty surprise. The places where Nimrod and the others had sat were vacated. Only a frazzled-looking waitress stood there.

_What the – we were literally gone a minute!_

_I'll use your voice_, Iblis warned Perry as he approached the waitress and flashed her a quick smile.

"Hey, Anna. Can you tell me where everyone went?"

"I'm sorry, Ma'am, I don't know…one second they were here, next second they were gone…they didn't even pay…"

"Oh, don't worry, I'll take care of that" Iblis said absently, taking out his wallet. As Perry ordered him, he gave Anna an extra big tip for her troubles. Then he sat down. The table was still littered with the remnants of everyone's breakfast. And there was his Vodka Rocks. The ice hadn't even melted yet.

Great. This was going _great_. Jirjis was out there doing god-knows-what, and now the ground had swallowed Rudyard and the goodie-goodies. He took out his cell phone and tried to call Nimrod.

"_The number you have been trying to reach is not available at present. Please try again later or leave a message after the…"_

He hung up and tried Rudyard. Same result.

_Looks like we're on our own_, Perry said.

Iblis nodded thoughtfully and ate someone's pancake.


End file.
